


Signals

by Trufreak89



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, High School AU, Morse Code, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6531838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trufreak89/pseuds/Trufreak89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke's 'secret crush' on a girl in her English class turns out to be not so secret. </p><p>Clexa fluff based on the tumblr prompt: “I use morse code to talk to my friend during class but it turns out you know morse code too." AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Signals

  
Clarke Griffin had been in some tricky situations in her time. Hell, some of them had even bordered on dangerous. Most of the times she’d found herself in hot water could be put down to either Octavia Blake or Raven Reyes. Her two best friends were always dragging her in to one thing or another. Octavia was to blame for their current drama.

She was the reason Clarke was sitting on the edge of her seat, glancing up at her freshman History teacher - Mr Kane - as he walked up and down the rows of desks. The whole class was silent, save for the constant scribbling of pens and pencils; and the occasional tapping on desks.

They were sitting their midterm, and of course Clarke was the only one who had studied. Out of the three best-friends, Clarke was the one who studied and passed, Raven was the one who wouldn’t study - and yet still pass - and Octavia was the one who would leave it to the last minute and then freak out about not studying enough. Raven was the one who had come up with the idea to help Octavia pass. Clarke had thought it was downright insane.

Three seats to Clarke’s left, Octavia tapped her nail on the desk three times, signaling she needed help with an answer. Despite not studying much, she’d only needed help with four of the twenty, multiple-choice, questions so far. The fifth meant it was Clarke’s turn to answer. Her palms were sweating as she struggled to keep a grip on her pencil. Raven’s plan was stupid. Kane was going to catch them. There was no doubt about it.

Ignoring the fact that Clarke was practically shaking in her seat, Octavia put their plan in to action. Using a combination of tapping one finger, or three together, against her desk Octavia signaled which question she was stuck on.

Clarke let out a soft sigh, wondering how her friends had even talked her in to this. It would have been easier for Octavia just to knuckle down and revise, rather than for all three of them to learn enough Morse Code to be able to signal the answers on the test.  
  
The girls had learned just the basics: A,B,C,D, and the digits. It had still taken time though, and Clarke wasn’t one hundred percent sure on her numbers. She had to rack her brain to figure out what question Octavia was asking for.

Three finger tap. Three finger tap. Three finger tap. Three finger tap. One finger tap.

\- - - - .

Clarke pictured in it her mind and came up with nine. Checking back on her answer she was thankful to find it was ‘A’; the easiest letter to signal, a dot then a dash.

One finger tap. Three finger tap.

Kane chose that precise moment to stop beside Clarke’s desk, resting his hand on her shoulder. She tensed, almost choking on the breath she’d been taking as he peered over her shoulder. That was it. The jig was up. They were all getting expelled. She’d never make it to college. Her parents would kill her.

Kane moved on.

Just like that, he checked over her answers and then carried on down the row, glancing at the answers of other students. Clarke let out a sigh of relief, her hand shaking as she marked off the answer to the question she was up to. One seat to her right, a quiet - bookish - girl, with wild frizzy hair and thick-rimmed glasses, regarded Clarke curiously. Clarke failed to notice her. She was too busy working on getting her heartbeat back down to normal, convinced that everyone else in the class could hear it.

The next time Olivia signaled it was Raven’s turn to answer. She tapped out a ‘C’, making Clarke frown down at her page. Raven had the answer wrong. She was sure of it. Cautiously, trying to be as quiet as possible - while still being able to be heard by Octavia - Clarke signaled ‘A’ again. Octavia looked up from her paper, glancing between her two best friends.

Raven was a borderline genius, while Clarke was a know-it-all teacher’s pet. The fact that they had different answers alarmed Octavia, who had no idea who to go with. A few tense moments passed before Raven tapped again. This time agreeing with Clarke. Relief flooded over Octavia’s young face as she ducked her head back down to answer.

A tense thirty minutes later and the bell rang out to signal the end of class. Once Kane had collected in all of the papers the teens were free to leave. Clarke raced out of the room, catching up with Raven and Octavia out in the hall. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we actually got away with that!”  
“Tell me about it!” Octavia laughed, her cheeks flushed and her eyes alight with mischief. “You know, we could totally get away with talking in class if we learned the whole code.”

“Yeah, except it would take forever to spell one word.” Raven rolled her eyes at her.  
“Ever heard of text speak, babe?” Octavia shot back, refusing to be deterred. “Think about it, guys! We could bitch all day long, and nobody would know what we were saying! C’mon, Griffin! You love learning useless crap!”  
“History is not useless crap.” Said Clarke. “And we were lucky to get away with that once. Do you seriously think we could do it again?”

 

* * *

 

... - --- .--. / ... - .- .-. .. -. --. (Stop Staring)

Clarke was sitting with her head resting on the palm of her hand, looking like she was glancing down at her textbook. Octavia knew better. Clarke’s gaze was actually to her right, sneaking glances at Lexa Woods. Her head snapped up as she heard Octavia’s message, followed by Raven’s.

.-- . .- -.- / -.-. (Weak, C)

Struggling not to glower at both of them, Clarke tapped out a quick ‘F U’. After years of practice the three girls were fluent in Morse Code. It was a strange skill for three teenagers to possess, but it had come in useful over the years. From helping Octavia out on tests, to arranging parties and talking about crushes. In all of that time nobody had picked up on the pattern behind the girls’ seemingly idle tapping on their desks during class.

.- … -.- …. . .-. .- .-.. .-. -.. -.— (Ask her alrdy)Raven tapped out impatiently against her desk. She and Octavia had spent the better part of the last year listening to Clarke go on about how great Lexa was. How she was funny and intelligent; and basically the best thing since sliced bread.

-.-. ..-. -- (CFM - I confirm) Octavia piped in. As well as the basic letters and numbers, the girls had learned some of the short hand codes too. It made it easier for them to converse without having to tap a hundred times to say one thing.  
‘30’ Clarke replied, giving the internationally recognized call for ‘I have no more to send’. It was the Morse code equivalent of ignoring the other two.

Clarke went back to skimming through her textbook, and sneaking furtive glances in Lexa’s direction when she thought the other girl wasn’t looking. AP English Language was the last class of the day on Friday’s, an time seemed to be inching along at a snail’s pace.

At the front of the class, Kane stood up and walked around to the front of his desk. He cleared his throat to get their attention. “Okay class, in the last few minutes I just want to go over the homework assignment.” There was a collective groan from the assembled teenagers.  
  
Kane waved off their protests, settling them back down. “Okay, okay. Quiet down everybody. I want you to team up in pairs and pick a poem to analyze. You’ll be presenting next Tuesday.” There was another wave of complaining at that. “I’m being nice for a chance. You can all choose your own partners.”

“Shotgun Blake!” Raven called out, before Clarke could even process what Kane had just asked of them. The blond looked up, mouth agape as Raven and Octavia shared a high-five. Octavia was much quicker on the uptake.  
  
“I guess that leaves Clarke without a partner. Hey Lexa! Clarke here needs a partner.” Octavia, who was sitting at the desk to Clarke’s left, gave her a hard shove in the arm; almost knocking her in to Lexa, who had stood up just as the bell for the end of class went.

The stoic girl steadied Clarke with a hand to her shoulder, helping to right her in her chair. Clarke’s pulse started racing at the simple touch. “Of course.” Lexa answered in a matter fact tone, making Clarke’s stomach do flips. “I have plans over the weekend though. Could we get together and work on the assignment tonight?”  
“Uh… sure. Yeah. Sure thing.” Clarke stammered. She was babbling like her brain had suddenly had its oxygen supply cut off.

“Good.” Lexa nodded stoutly. She was always so cutoff and formal with other people around, which was part of the reason that Raven and Octavia didn’t get Clarke’s attraction - beside the obvious. What Lexa Woods lacked in social skills, she more than made up for in

She was tall and slim, with the kind of athletic build that came from team sports. She also had the greenest eyes Clarke had ever seen. It was hard not to stare in to them as she spoke. “Why don’t you come over tonight then? Say around six?”

“Come over? To your house?” Lexa had been over to Clarke’s house a handful of time - usually to work on similar projects - but she had yet to be invited over to Lexa’s house.  
“No, Princess, she’s inviting you to ihop.” Octavia rolled her eyes at her.  
  
“Yes. To my house.” Lexa wore an almost shy smile as she adjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder. “I’ll text you the address. See you at six?”  
“Six. Yeah. On the dot… I’ll see you then.”

Lexa was barely out of the door when Raven and Octavia started up. Octavia slung her arm around her shoulder and started walking towards the door, dragging Clarke along with her. “Jesus, Griffin, where the hell did you leave your game? On the bus?”  
“Yeah Carkey, that was pathetic. You’ll never get in her pants like that.” Raven added, throwing her own arm around Clarke’s other shoulder once they were out in the hall.

“I’m not trying… I… shut up.” Clarke huffed, her cheeks taking on a slight blush. “I’m just going over to do the assignment is all.”  
“Mhmmm.” Raven looked at her skeptically. “So what poem are you guys going to do? Come Slowly, Eden?”  
"I Sing the Body Electric?” Octavia waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Clarke shook her head at both of them.  
  
“I dunno. Lexa’s really in to poetry. I guess I’ll just go with whatever she wants to do.” Clarke shrugged defensively. She was anxious enough about going over to the other girl’s house to start with. She didn’t need her friend making it any worse for her.

“Fucking like rabbits it is then.” Raven quipped, earning herself a sidelong glare from Clarke.  
“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one.” Octavia piped up, getting in on Raven’s act.  
“Really? Well, I could always give you a personal rendition if you wanted?” Raven smirked, tugging on the back of Octavia’s jeans.

“Not sure Linc would be too happy with that.” Laughed Octavia. She pushed Raven away, already scanning the parking lot for Lincoln.  
“The more the merrier.” Raven smirked shamelessly. “I’ll leave you to get a ride home with lover-boy. And I’ll take clarkey home and help her pick out something to wear for her hot date tonight.”  
“It’s not a date!” Clarke grumbled. “Wait, do you think it’s a date?”  


* * *

  
“Does this look too slutty?” Clarke stood in front of the full length mirror in her room, carefully scrutinizing her reflection. She’d put her hair down and lightly curled the ends, letting it hang down over her shoulders. Clarke had changed three times already, and the clock was counting down the minutes until six o’clock. She had about ten minutes to decide on something and leave, otherwise she’d end up being late.

Her latest outfit of choice was a pair of figure hugging skinny jeans and a floral shirt with the top two buttons undone. “No.” Raven answered from over on Clarke’s bed. Where she was lying sprawled out on her stomach, reading a magazine. She hadn’t even looked up from the page.

“You didn’t even look, Raven!” Protested Clarke. The other girl was meant to be there to help, and so far she’d been less than useless.  
“I don’t need to. Whatever you’re wearing it’s not slutty enough.” Raven shot back, still not bothering to actually look up.

Clarke rolled her eyes and pulled her shirt up over her head. She stood there in just her jeans and a lacy black bra. “How about now?”  
“Much better. Lose the jeans and I might even be tempted myself.”  
  
“How did you-” Clarke started to ask, but stopped short as she spun around to look at Raven and saw her glancing up at Clarke’s reflection in the TV screen. “In your dreams, perve.” She laughed as she padded over to her closet in search of another top. She was on the right track with the jeans, she just needed to find a shirt to go with it; and fast.

“Every night, Griffin. Every night.” Raven smirked. “Put on something low cut. You got great boobs, it wouldn’t hurt to show ‘em off once in a while.” Clarke grumbled something under her breath in response, but ended up pulling out a deep maroon tank top with a low neckline. She topped it off with a dangling pendant, which would instantly draw attention to her cleavage.

“That’s my girl!” Raven finally set the magazine she was reading aside, giving Clarke her full attention. “It’s almost six. Want me to drive you over? It’s not like you’ll be needing a lift back here; not wearing that outfit anyway.”

The drive over to Lexa’s house was a short one. She only lived a few blocks over from Clarke, and with the way Raven drove it took no time at all to get them there. Clarke was tossing a casual wave behind her and climbing up Lexa’s porch at a minute to six. She rang the door bell just as Raven honked the horn a couple of times and then sped off.

Clarke fidgeted nervously with the zipper of her hoodie as she waited for someone to answer the door. After a few anxious moments, Lexa appeared behind the frosted glass of the screen door. “Clarke. Right on time.” Lexa greeted her with a wide open smile. Clarke rarely saw her smile like that in public. It only ever seemed to grace her lips when it was just the two of them.

“On the dot.” Clarke agreed, following Lexa in to the hall. She slipped off her boots, placing them on the shoe rack at the front door. Lexa’s house was like a showroom. With plain white walls and hardwood floors throughout.

The style was minimalist, with sleek modern furniture lining the living room. The only kind of clutter was a collection of old looking machines sitting on shelves that lined the back wall. Clarke didn’t get much time to look at them as Lexa caught hold of her hand.

“Have you eaten yet? I was going to order in.” She asked, leading Clarke in to the kitchen. The blond was too busy marveling at the snug fit of Lexa’s hand in her own.  
“Uh, no. I could eat. I eat… Food…” Clarke felt her cheeks reddening as she started rambling again. She wasn’t usually this lame around the other girl.

“Good to know.” Lexa laughed, biting on her lip to hold back a smirk as she let go of Clarke’s hand. “Soda?” She opened the fridge and offered Clarke a can of Pepsi.  
“Thanks.” Clarke was still kicking herself from her ‘I eat food’ line. Lexa had her back to Clarke as she poured out the can of soda in to a glass with ice. Clarke’s friends were lucky if they got offered anything to drink at her house, never mind getting a glass with ice.

Clarke took advantage of Lexa’s turned back to appreciate that she wasn’t the only one who had changed after school. Lexa was wearing tight, black, skinny jeans and a flowing white blouse. She’d also tied her hair back in a loose braid. Clarke was still staring as Lexa turned around. If she noticed then she didn’t say anything.

Lexa just handed Clarke her glass and ushered her over to the breakfast bar. She’d set her laptop up there to make notes on their presentation. As organized as ever, she’d already opened up PowerPoint ready to make a start. “So, what poem were you thinking of doing?” Clarke asked.

Lexa had a stack of poetry books lined up neatly on the counter, which was just like her. The spines were all cracked and well-worn. They were obviously some of her favorites. Clarke picked one up and started leafing through it, paying particular attention to the pages with dogeared corners.

  
“I just don’t get it!” Clarke huffed, collapsing forward on the table. They'd eventually chosen a poem to work on, but Clarke still didn't understand a word of it. “How do you get all that stuff from a couple of lines? I just, I don’t get it!” Clarke had never been very good at poetry, or reading between the lines in general. Lexa didn’t have that limitation. She seemed to be able to read a couple of verses and pick up on everything the writer was trying to convey; whereas Clarke just saw a few lines about sand and waves.

“Clarke, it’s easy.” Lexa tried to laugh off her negativity. They’d already spent half an hour going over their chosen play - Poe’s ‘A dream Within a Dream’ - and Clarke was no further forward in understanding it. She was halfway convinced that Lexa was just making stuff up to sound intelligent.

“Okay, so I’m officially thick!” Clarke threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.  
“No. You’re not… a drama queen, maybe-”  
“Hey!” Clarke elbowed her in the ribs. “I am not a drama queen!”  
  
“And you’re not stupid, either.” Lexa grinned. “Come on, we’ve gone over this twice already. The first verse is about the narrator’s lover dying, and the second uses the metaphor of sand slipping through their fingers as a way of explaining how time is fleeting. Like love, it’s finite. It runs out.”

“Wow, that’s depressing. Why can’t we analyze something light and fluffy?” Clarke moaned. Poetry really wasn’t her thing.  
“Because all of the really good poetry is about suffering. That’s the human condition, Clarke.”  
“Wow. Who hurt you? Seriously?” Clarke tried to sound serious, but couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped. Lexa shook her head at her in disdain, mimicking Clarke by throwing her hands up in the air.  
“I’m done.”

“Sorry, Lex. I’m a visual kind of girl. Show me a Picasso or a Dali and I’ll talk your ear off about it.”  
“Fine. How about we make a compromise? I’ll write the analysis and you can draw something to go with it. Like a visual interpretation.”  
“See, this is why I love working with you! Can we eat now? I’m starved.”  
“I’ll order something in.”

Lexa ordered from a nearby thai restaurant, and ushered Clarke in to the living room while they waited. She put the TV on to one of the music channels. Something low and soulful was playing, but Clarke wasn’t paying any attention to the music. Making the most of actually being in Lexa’s house for a change, she was walking around the living room and looking at framed photos and ornaments. A set of strange looking machines on a shelf caught her attention. “What are those?” she asked over her shoulder.

Lexa didn’t answer straight away. She looked anxious about something as she stood up from the couch and slowly walked over to stand beside Clarke. She stopped awfully close, her side brushing against Clarke’s in a way that had the blonde’s heart stammering. “They’re my father’s. Collecting them is sort of his hobby.”  
“Okay, but what are they?” Clarke’s curiosity was peaked. All of the machines were similar in structure, with a metal or brass lever sitting on a block of wood.

“They are electromagnetic telegraphs.” Lexa finally answered, watching closely for Clarke’s reaction. When she got none, she carried on. “The inventor was a painter. He was commissioned to do a painting in Washington, whilst there he received a letter informing him his wife was ill. She died, and was buried, before he could even make it home.”

“That’s sad.” Clarke frowned. She ran her finger lightly over the brass lever of the nearest machine and noticed that it pressed down against another circle of brass. She still wasn’t any the wiser as to what the contraption actually did. “So how did this help? What does it do?”  
“It’s a telegraph. It sends out electronic messages through a system of dots and dashes.” Clarke felt her heart sink. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize it, Clarke. Given your interest in Morse code.”

She turned to fine Lexa smirking at her. Clarke couldn’t form a single word. Her mouth opened and closed, like a fish floundering outside of water. “Are… do you…” Clarke just couldn’t get the words out. She wanted to ask whether Lexa was well versed in Morse code; though part of her had a horrible feeling that she already knew the answer.  
  
“I share my father’s interest.” Lexa answered in her usual, overly formal way. A smug smirk was still tugging at her lips as she leaned in towards the other girl, lightly cupping her cheek and kissing her. Clarke saw stars. Literal, tiny, explosions of light burst behind her eyelids as she closed them over and sunk in to the kiss.  
  
She couldn’t count how many times she had thought about kissing Lexa Woods; and it was finally happening. Fantasy paled in comparison to reality. Despite her quiet demeanor, the other girl was certainly assertive when it came to kissing Clarke. Her proud mouth was firm yet soft against Clarke’s lips. There was no nose bumping or knocking of teeth, with the two girls moving in perfect sync.

“Wow…” Clarke finally managed to splutter something out as they parted. Neither girl moved very far away though, with Clarke resting her forehead against Lexa’s. Her eyes had the kind of glassed over look of someone who had just been taken by complete surprise. “That was… wow.”

“Thank you.” Lexa was barely holding back another smirk, though this time her cheeks were as flushed as Clarke’s. Her arms slowly reached around Clarke’s waist. The movement was hesitant, like she was still unsure if this was really what Clarke wanted. The other girl immediately fixed that with another kiss. It was Lexa’s turn to let out an amazed sigh. “Wow.”

“So, all this time… in class. You knew I was talking about you?” Clarke asked, and Lexa nodded sheepishly.  
“I picked up on what you and your friends were doing in freshman year. I tried not to eavesdrop, but when I kept hearing my name come up…”  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Clarke demanded, frustrated that they could have been making out in Lexa’s living room so much sooner.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you. I was waiting for you to say something to me.” Lexa shrugged. “I grew impatient.” She added, with a musical kind of laugh at Clarke’s arched eyebrow.  
“Hey, I’m not complaining!” Clarke grinned. “So do I need to send out a telegram to get a date, or…” Lexa cut her off with another kiss.  
  
“How about we start with dinner, and take it from there?" 

 


End file.
